


Agony

by TheForgottenDreams (orphan_account)



Series: The Soundtrack To Our Lives [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Eavesdropping, F/F, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, Singing, spontaneous musical numbers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheForgottenDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras loved his friends, he really did. He loved all their idiosyncrasies that made them who they were.<br/>But, like himself, they did have flaws.<br/>They were far too fond of random musicals number</p><p>“Of courseI have feelings for him, he’s my friend.” Combeferre frowned. </p><p>“Non-platonic feelings.” Éponine rolled her eyes.</p><p>Combeferre’s eyes widened behind his glasses, “I-I don’t have non…. non-platonic feelings for Courf.”</p><p> </p><p>(in which Enjolras,  Éponine and Combeferre do some accidental eavesdropping)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agony

“So ‘Ferre, Courfeyrac, eh?” Éponine said as they walked into the Café Musain, on their way to a Les Amis meeting. From her tone Enjolras could sense the eyebrow wiggle and sure enough when he looked at her, he saw the devious look in her eyes and of course, the infamous eyebrow jiggle. She just grinned at him with a wink and he shook his head slowly, a smirk on his lips. 

“What about him?” Combeferre asked, pushing his glasses up as they paused at the bar to order their coffees. The barista was familiar with the three of them and simply started making their usual order with a smile, they always tipped her well. 

“Oh come on,” Enjolras muttered with an eyeroll, “It’s so obvious.”

“See? Even Enjy knows what I’m talking about.” Éponine grinned then stage-whispered, “ And that boy is oblivious.” 

Combeferre glared at Enjolras who slapped her head half-heartedly, she retorted by sticking her tongue out at him and he responded. Combeferre cleared his throat and stuttered. “I don’t know what you mean ‘Ponine.” 

“You have feelings for him.” Enjolras said bluntly.

“Of course, he’s my friend.” Combeferre frowned. 

“Non-platonic feelings.” Éponine answered. 

Combeferre’s eyes widened behind his glasses, “I-I don’t have non…. non-platonic feelings for Courf.”

Éponine and Enjolras shared a look that meant they both knew Combeferre hadn’t realised what he felt, they both spoke at the same time. “Sure.” 

“I don’t. And you can’t really talk, Éponine – do I need to mention Marius and Cosette?” Combeferre asked. 

“No.” Éponine clenched her teeth and blushed, a rare and strange occurrence for them all. They paid the barista and tipped her to which she smiled at them and wished them a happy meeting.

“And Enjolras….” Combeferre turned to him.

“No.” Enjolras simply said, picking his coffee up from the counter he turned and started towards the stairs leading up to the backroom. The two behind him shared a look and then hurried after him.

“I just thought there might be something there…” Enjolras could hear Éponine mutter to Combeferre as they traipsed up the stairs. 

They got halfway before Enjolras froze.

“Did I abuse her or show her disdain? Why does she run from me?” a soft, melodic and feminine voice trickled from the backroom of the Musain. Enjolras put out a hand to stop the other two as they listened again, “If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me?”

“Agony!” Three voices sang. Enjolras frowned trying to pick out the people behind them. Éponine was frowning and pushed past both Combeferre and Enjolras, creeping up the stairs quietly so not to disturb the three already up there. Enjolras and Combeferre followed equally as stealthy. 

“Beyond power of speech, when the one thing you want is the only thing out of your reach.” A male voice sang.

“High in his tower, he sits by the hour maintaining his hair.” A different deeper voice sang this bit. Enjolras glanced up at Éponine, her hazel eyes were wide as she listened. “Blithe and becoming and frequently humming a lighthearted air: ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah.” 

“Agony!” 

“Far more painful than yours, when you knew he would go with you if only there were doors.” The first male voice sang, which Enjolras now recognised to be Courfeyrac’ – from the drama students frequent shower concerts.

Combeferre tensed and whispered up to Enjolras: “Courfeyrac?”

Enjolras nodded.

Then all three of the voices combined as they sang: “Agony! Oh, the torture they teach! What’s as intriguing or half so fatiguing as what’s out of reach?”

“Am I not sensitive?” The girl’s voice sounded out, the pitch was high enough and sweet enough to be Cosette, “Clever? Well-mannered? Considerate? Passionate? Charming?” 

“Cosette?” Éponine mouthed.

“Well I doubt its Musichetta.” Combeferre whispered. 

“As kind as I’m handsome?” Courfeyrac sang. 

“And an heir to a throne?” Cosette sang.

“You are everything maidens could wish for!” The other guy sang – Enjolras couldn’t place the voice. 

“Oh God! It’s ‘Taire!” Éponine whispered and clasped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Enjolras blinked, felt his face flush and thanked the stingy owner of the café for the dim lighting in the stairwell so the others couldn’t see his blush. 

“Then why no?” 

“Do I know?” Courfeyrac harmonised. 

“The girl must be mad!” Cosette sang. 

“You know nothing of madness.” Grantaire sang, emotion thick in his voice, “Till you’re climbing his hair and you see him up there as you’re nearing him all the while hearing him: ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah.” Grantaire sang, and yes, now Enjolras could place it as him, his voice was wonderful to say the least and Enjolras felt a pang in his chest.

“Agony!” Cosette groaned. 

“Misery!” Courfeyrac whined. 

“Woe!” Grantaire exclaimed, Enjolras felt his palms begin to sweat, his friends were singing about people they liked and though Cosette’s was obviously about Éponine and Courfeyrac’s about Combeferre, he had no clue who’s Grantaire’s singing was about. 

“Though it’s different for each.” Courfeyrac sang.

“Always ten steps behind-“ Cosette sang mournfully.

“Always ten feet below-“ Grantaire added with emotion in his voice, plain to hear. Enjolras felt sick with jealousy and longing.

“And their just out of reach! Agony! That can cut like a knife!” They all sang, their respective parts, “I must have them tonight!”

The three of them stood silently, thoughts racing through all of their heads, but each one knowing that they couldn’t stay there – in case they got caught from the three of them leaving the room or the other members turning up.

“We should go.” Combeferre whispered, “Then it doesn’t look like we’ve just stood and listened. I don’t think anyone else was supposed to hear.”

“We can walk around the block and come back.” Enjolras nodded, trying to shake the feeling that had crept up on him.

“I’m already gone.” Éponine whispered and pushed past them both again and hurried silently down the stairs as quick as she could, the other two following quickly. 

When they returned back to the Musain, no one mentioned the singing. Though Enjolras was distracted, Combeferre blatantly ignored Courfeyrac and Éponine argued with Cosette, the meeting was cut short and the other Les Amis were left wondering what was wrong with the three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by 'Agony' from 'Into The Woods'. I had to change the last few words so they made sense. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos, they mean a lot!


End file.
